And so I call out to you
by Twinkie D
Summary: Duo and nightmares. Slight shonen-ai, has 3x4 in it, but otherwise very neutral. Blah.


Author: Twinkie/ Twinkie D/Twinkie_Duck. Damn, I'm starting to get confused. Goddamned ff.net.  
  
Warnings: Angst, or so I would like to think. Sap, 'cause what'd a fic of mine be without sap that makes you wanna puke?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue. The day I own them will be a happy day for all yaoi lovers, for new and revised Gundam Wing shall be full of man/man relations, and (you can bet) it will not be suitable for anyone under 21. And we shall ignore the fact that I am not *myself* over 21. *runs of to eat babble-stopping pills*  
  
On with the fic!  
  
And so I call out to you - by Twinkie  
  
The silence was deafening. It was so dark, so hard to see in front of you, everything was concealed in the blackness, and he wished with all his might for it to stop. The silence was quickly driving him insane, the darkness scaring him.  
  
He wished for someone, something, anything, to stop this nightmare. It was a nightmare, he knew. This was what his mind conjured for him in the loneliness of the night, a punishment for his crimes in the daytime.  
  
He felt like screaming.  
  
Then it began. The small dripping sound, like drops of water dropping from the leaking ceiling to the floor of a run down safe-house they were sometimes forced to stay. With the exception that the drops weren't water.  
  
After the quiet sound came the imaginary smell. The smell that followed him anywhere he went, clung to his hair and to his clothes, even after countless of showers and baths.  
  
The coppery smell of fresh blood.  
  
The 'drip drip' became louder, filling his ears while the smell of blood filled his nostrils, and even though he tried to block them both out, they still drove themselves through, making his head and heart ache, his eyes water and his lungs burn.  
  
'Please, please make it stop!' he prayed, hot liquid streaming down his cheeks, to his chin and to his neck. 'Please stop!'  
  
Instead of stopping, it only got worse. The noise rose, the smell strengthened, and now he could see people. Dead people, murdered people; the people he had killed. Soldiers, civilians; women, men, children, all of them. They glared at him accusingly, open wounds bleeding, making him sick.  
  
The glares intensified. How dare you, our murderer, they said, how dare you to be disgusted of us, of our gashes, when it was you who are responsible of them?  
  
He couldn't turn his face away. He was the one to blame. It was his fault. Tears kept on the steady flow.  
  
The dead surrounded him, accusatory eyes glued to him, gluing him to his place, freezing his limbs and his will. The only thing still active in him was his mind, screaming in guilt and terror, wanting to flee. But he couldn't.  
  
The deceased closed onto him, reaching to touch him with cold, clammy hands, tearing his clothes in the eagerness to revenge, and he couldn't move. He screamed.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Quatre woke to the feelings of downright terror, remorse and self-hatred. He was dazed for a while. Then he heard the screaming.  
  
He threw the covers aside and jumped up, quickly hurrying towards the voice. Trowa had already awoken, gracefully standing and following his lover, worry written in his usually impassive face.  
  
In the hall they were met with sleepy but alert looking Wufei and Heero, who looked as unfeeling as always. Quatre didn't spare them a glance. He sped to the remaining pilot's door, and threw it open.  
  
The screaming hadn't stopped. The Sandrock's pilot was met with the sight of Duo, tangled in his sheets, tears flowing freely, trashing around the bed, the edge of panic clearly written in his face, his voice and in his movements.  
  
"Please, stop! I didn't mean to, I didn't want to! Please forgive me! STOP!"  
  
Quatre stood in the doorway, watching in horror. He felt the others line up behind him, and he was snapped awake. He moved to beside Duo's bed, and grabbed the sheet, trying to free his friend from it, at the same time calling the longhaired one's name.  
  
"Duo, wake up! It's only a bad dream! Duo!"  
  
His lover took his side, helping him, and soon the sheet flew across the room, and Duo, though still asleep, felt the freedom, quickly moved to the opposite direction, starting awake.  
  
He sat there, eyes open wide, staring before him, chest rising and falling in quick rhythm. Then his gaze shifted to his Quatre, who had sat to the edge of his bed, and his lower lip started to tremble.  
  
"Quatre.?" The whisper was almost inaudible.  
  
Quatre reached out to him, and Duo didn't resist as he was pulled to the small blonde's arms, his head falling against the slight chest, feeling the other's face bury in his hair.  
  
"I'm sorry", he whispered again, closing his eyes in shame. He didn't want them to think him weak. Screaming and crying over a nightmare- he must seem like a baby to them.  
  
Quatre hummed at him soothingly, stroking his hair gently. "Don't worry, Duo. We all have our nightmares. Don't worry." Quatre started rocking him from side to side, until he was almost asleep. He felt safe. Then Quatre laid himself down to the bed and pulled Duo with him. Trowa climbed in beside him, and soon, to Duo's surprise, Wufei and Heero followed the example, Wufei spooning him from the other side, Heero resting against the Chinese. Somebody pulled the cover over them. It was comfortable like that. All together, trading warmth and security to each other.  
  
They were a team, brought and held together by war and death, but the bonds were strong, though it didn't seem like that most of the time. It was moments like these that showed how much they really cared for one another, and Duo knew he would not be left standing alone, not against dreams or reality. A wave of relief washed over him, and he burrowed closer to the bodies surrounding him.  
  
Quatre turned his head to smile at his lover. Duo's breath evened out, and he was clearly asleep. Wufei was making small sighing noises in the other side of the bed, his face buried in Duo's neck. Heero had circled his arm in the other Asian boy's waist, and he looked like he was fast sleeping, but Quatre knew better. It would surprise most of the people who had met Heero Yuy, seeing him like this, but the truth was that the Japanese pilot was really protective over them. They were his friends, the first and only, at this point.  
  
Trowa kissed him gently, and finally they settled down to sleep, Quatre's hand curling around the long fingered one of his love's, and they slept, too.  
  
*****************  
  
God, I do not understand how this always happens to me. It begins with poorly written (horrible) wanna-be angst, and ends with (even more horrible) sap.  
  
ARGH!  
  
'Tis a curse planted upon me. *growls* Argh. I'll just go and poke myself to death. *leaves* Bye.  
  
*turns around and comes back* In the other hand, maybe I won't. But I dare you *pokes a finger at the readers (what readers?!)* to review and tell me if I suck (which I do, but I want you to tell me anyway).  
  
So, good people, REVIEW! Or I will come to your dreams and piss on your cereal! (If somebody really was scared by the threat, please inform me. I shall start immediately writing a book of scary and well working threats. Thank you.) 


End file.
